


Coffee Shop Intervention

by MashiarasDream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean’s self-worth is atrocious as usual, M/M, bitching with a happy end, but he’s been a dick to Cas and that’s not okay, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never wanted to meet Cas again. Not because he hated him, quite the opposite, but because he hated himself. Fate (and his brother) have different plans.</p><p>Totally self-indulgent coffee shop AU just cause I felt like writing about two morons bitching at each other in a coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Shop Intervention

„Oh fuck.“

Dean almost turns on the spot when he sees the tuft of dark hair. But all that happens is that he runs into the solid wall that is his brother.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks but Dean doesn’t even get to answer before Sam has found the source of Dean’s sudden discomfort. “Oh! Hey, Cas!” he hollers.

And there go all of Dean’s hopes of sneaking back out and finding a different place to buy their coffee from.

Cas turns around to greet Sam and promptly freezes. Well, it’s expected that he isn’t particularly keen on this meeting, either. Dean’s not sure that makes him feel any better, though. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and follows his brother, who has already made his way over to Cas’ table.

“Sam, I’m happy to see you but I’m actually waiting for someone.” Cas is already trying to get rid of them by the time Dean catches up.

“Oh, that’s okay. We can wait with you and then make ourselves scarce when your friend comes. Dean, do you want coffee? I’ll go get it. Cas, another hot chocolate?”

There’s no stopping Sam when he’s on a roll so Dean isn’t even surprised when Cas looks slightly stunned and then nods though he clearly wants to shake his head.

And because Dean has no more backbone than Cas when it comes to Sam, Dean slinks onto one of the free chairs at the table. “Sorry about that.”

Cas shrugs resignedly. “It’s alright. He doesn’t know any better.”

It sounds detached, indifferent. Which is probably better than the scorn Dean deserves. But it still grates on him. He’s never mastered the art of indifference towards Cas.

Consequently, “You waiting for a date?” are the next words out of his mouth.

Cas shoots him a withering look which is probably answer enough.

“Alright, alright,” Dean holds his hands up in defense, “it’s none of my business. Got it.”

But without that, there’s no conversation. Dean cranes his neck but there’s a line in front of the counter. Sam’s going to need a while to get their order.

“So how is – what’s her name?” Cas asks suddenly.

And okay, that sounded less detached and more passive-aggressive.

“No idea who you’re talking about,” Dean replies.

“Ah, nice to know that it’s not only me who can’t remember their names. Must be a real blessing to be this thoughtless. You never have to worry about other people that way.”

 _Or the way you’re hurting them._ It isn’t said but it’s there. The sting is bitter and sharp, the guilt as intense as always. Still, “I remember your name, don’t I?” he bites.

“Low, Dean. That’s low. Even for you,” Cas grits out and Dean can see that his hit has found its target, Cas’ careful composure breaking around the edges.

Not that it makes Dean feel any better. Nothing much makes Dean feel better these days. He shrugs. “I’m an asshole. You knew that.”

“Yes, I knew,” Cas agrees. “But Sam’s the only Winchester I’ve been talking to in the past year.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean bites.

“Means that I almost forgot that you’re an ass. Guess I gotta thank you for reminding me.”

That draws Dean up short. Because Cas just pretty much told him that against the odds, Sam talks nicely about him. And Dean would very much like to keep it that way. “You gonna tell him?” he asks, trying to make his voice sound less pathetic than he feels.

“Tell him what, Dean? That you’re an asshole in general? Or how you were an asshole to me in particular?”

“Uhh.” For that, Cas would have to tell his brother that Dean cheated on Cas. Which means he’d first have to tell him that they’d been together. Or rather, had been a thing. Whatever it was that you were when you were both fucking and cuddling but didn’t want anyone to find out about either. Not that the finding out part had been a problem for Cas. That was all Dean. Everything fucked up is all Dean.

Cas looks right through him of course and gives him an exasperated eye-roll. “You’re still not out? Makes sense, I guess. You always were a coward.”

It’s a half-snarl, meant to hurt, and Dean balls his hands into fists under the table until his nails dig into the flesh of his palms. “That’s none of _your_ business,” he grits out.

“You know that he knows about me, right? Sam, I mean? He knows I have real anal sex with real guys and guess what, he couldn’t care less.”

Dean knows he’s flushing a bright pink at just the words _anal sex_ and he really doesn’t want them to be uttered anywhere near his brother.

“You wouldn’t lose him, is all I’m saying.” Then Cas shakes himself and groans. “Why the hell am I trying to help you? I lose all good sense around you.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean repeats because he doesn’t know what else to say to that. It’s not like he’s trying to fuck Cas up.  

“Spare me, Winchester. Just cause my brain has decided you’re pitiful enough that you need help, doesn’t mean I actually like you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean mumbles because he got that message without Cas having to spell it out. It would be all good, too, if there wasn’t this pesky problem that Dean’s got trouble reciprocating the sentiment.

“That’s it?” Cas mocks. “No witty comeback? You lost form, Dean.”

“At least I had form to lose,” Dean snaps, though he’s got a feeling that there’s heat lacking behind the statement. “You want to reduce me to tears in the time before my brother comes back, give it your best shot. I got nowhere to run.”

It’s enough to shut Cas up. Because of course he won’t. He’s way too _nice_ to publicly humiliate Dean. It’s obnoxious really, how much of a good guy Cas is. How much better than Dean he is. Shows pretty well why exactly it would never have worked out with the two of them anyway. Cas has always been out of Dean’s league. Though Dean could have done a few things differently. Might have taken Cas a little longer to work that fact out then.

“Are you saying I could reduce you to tears?” Cas asks and it sounds mostly surprised.

Dean shrugs. “You always knew how to hit so that it hurts.” Knew it, mind you, didn’t actually do it. Cause Cas was a good guy who you had to rile thoroughly before he’d lash out. And even then he usually held back. Like right now.

“Back then I knew you,” Cas counters.

Dean almost chuckles he feels so pathetic. “I think we’ve already established that I’m still the same self-indulgent asshole. I haven’t changed, Cas. Just hit the same places that always hurt, you’ll do fine.”

“Your dad…?” Cas asks.

“Is still a homophobe who I haven’t told jack. My Mom’s still dead. Sam’s still the only one who’s ever going to amount to anything in this family. Nothing’s changed, Cas. Nothing.”

Fuck, there are tears prickling behind his eyes after all. And Cas didn’t even try.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, suddenly softer.

“Don’t want your pity, Cas,” Dean turns his head away.

“It’s not pity, Dean,” Cas answers quietly. “It’s compassion. There’s a difference.”

“Well yeah,” Dean nods. “One I don’t want and the other I don’t deserve. Let’s stay with scorn. That’s nice and simple.”

“Everyone deserves kindness, Dean,” Cas lectures him with a frown.

It dredges up memories that Dean had buried deep in the basement of his heart. Cas had tried so hard to drag Dean out of the abyss of his self-hate. Dean had seen it, too. And had stomped on everything they had in retaliation. He’s not going to make the same mistake twice. It’s better for Cas if he keeps hating Dean. Hey, they’ll have something in common then.

“No need to bother, Cas.” It comes out defeated but he manages something that might with a bit of luck resemble a smile. “I’m just no good. Not for you, not for anyone else. _He_ is the only one who hasn’t noticed yet,” he inclines his head toward where Sam is now in the front third of the row. “He will one day. He’s smart like that. But hell if I’m not going to enjoy the time I’ve got left.”

“Oh Dean.” This time there’s no doubt it’s pity.

Dean lets it slide. Has to let it slide because he’s one sentence about his own shitty life away from crying for real and that’s not going to happen. He needs to divert the attention fast. “What about you, Cas? You happy?”

Because he really wishes that he is. Even if he doesn’t want to hear the details.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m happy,” Cas nods. “I have a good life.”

“I’m glad.” Dean forces the smile back on his face. “You deserve it, Cas. You deserve everything good in the world.” It only hurts a little bit in his stomach that everything good in the world doesn’t include him.

Might be that Cas is picking up on even that tiny bit of hurt, though, because there’s a squint and a head tilt, and okay, this was probably sappier than the shit Dean usually says. But it’s true anyway. Cas deserves everything he wants. So Dean has no urge to take the words back or cover them up with an insult. Who knows when or if ever he’s going to see Cas again. And yeah, it’s better if Cas keeps hating him but it doesn’t mean that Dean needs to pile new hate on top of what’s already there. It’s enough for a life-time anyway.

Dean starts fidgeting this point because Cas is still staring at him and while Dean was used to the scrutiny once, these days no one takes enough interest in him to try to puzzle him out. Which in itself is another thing that’s really pathetic, Dean guesses.

Still, the silence stretches on and he has a need to fill it with words. “He’s lucky.”

And okay, that’s not what he’d wanted to say even if it’s also undoubtedly true.

Cas raises his eyebrows in question.

Dean has dug this hole already so he might as well jump in. “Your guy,” he clarifies. “The one you’re happy with. He’s lucky.”

Cas nods then, slowly, like he’s processing Dean’s words. “Not sure luck’s got anything to do with it.”

It’s a rebuke that Dean guesses he deserves. Cas has no reason to trust Dean. After all, Dean’s been lucky enough to have Cas once and he’s managed to throw away what they had. “Fair enough. Let me reword, then. He’s treating you right and he’s getting to be with the most awesome person as a reward. That’s a pretty good deal in my books.” There. That’s better. Unless – “He is treating you right, right?” Because it’s enough that Dean fucked up, Cas doesn’t need to go through that again.

Cas’ eyebrows rise even higher. “What are you going to do if he isn’t? Beat him up in my name? Save me like a damsel in distress?”

And uhh, that’s probably not a good response. Sudden heat flames in Dean’s cheeks. “That’s not what I meant,” he mutters. “I know you can stand your own.” Dean being exhibit number one on the list labeled _Cas doesn’t put up with shit_. Dean still can’t help himself, and adds, “I would, though, if you asked me to.”

“Chivalrous of you,” Cas says, and Dean’s pretty sure it’s supposed to sound sarcastic. Only it doesn’t. Not really. It sounds more like Cas is wondering how the hell they’ve gone from insults to something that passes as civilized conversation.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t yell at me, Cas. Or call me names or whatever,” Dean says, but he smiles with it because he really likes the fact that they’re actually talking.

“Oh, don’t even try,” Cas chastises immediately. “I’m not falling for your charms again, so don’t bother.”

“Hey, I wasn’t,” Dean says quickly. “Scout’s honor.”

“Hmpf.” Cas is obviously not convinced.

“Look, I wouldn’t do that. You’re happy. I wouldn’t do anything to fuck that up.”

Cas seems to accept that after a moment of contemplation. But then his face turns hard again, eyes suddenly two shades icier. “If you want me happy, then why’d you do it, Dean?” he asks.

He doesn’t have to clarify what he means. “I don’t know,” Dean mumbles.

A look of disbelief crosses Cas’ face and then the contempt is back. “A lie? Really, Dean? Even now you think that’s all I deserve? And here I just thought you might have changed after all.”

“Told you I hadn’t,” Dean mutters but his eyes don’t want to meet Cas’.

Because of course it’s a lie. Of course he knows why he cheated. Cause they’d had a good thing going and Dean was getting close to needing that good thing. To wanting to keep it forever. To wanting to keep Cas forever. But that wasn’t going to happen. Cause people leave Dean. His Mom left. His Dad left. Dean just isn’t someone people want around. So Dean makes himself scarce. He figures as long as he only visits a few times a year, Sammy won’t tire of him quite as fast. But with Cas? Dean hadn’t been able to take it. Couldn’t wait around for Cas to figure out that he didn’t want Dean. Because by then Dean would have needed him to stay. So Dean made sure he ended it beforehand. With no chance to take it back.

“Tell me the truth, Dean,” Cas demands. “Just this once, don’t be a coward.”

There are no words for all of this so Dean boils it down to, “You’re out of my league, Cas. Always have been. You could do better than me, you just didn’t know it back then.”

“You wanted to show me that I could do better than you?” Cas asks incredulously.

Dean shrugs. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Cas shakes his head as if he’s lost for words. Hey, for once Dean has managed to make the psych major speechless. It should feel like a win. It doesn’t.

“God, Dean, you have enough self-hatred to fuel Mount Doom.” Cas leans back in his chair and rubs a hand through his hair as if he’s suddenly exhausted.

Okay, definitely not a win then. “Thought we had a deal that you won’t analyze me.” Insisted on early on in their relationship, since the analyses tended to turn out correct every time.

“We’re not a couple anymore, Dean,” Cas says softly. “You nixed all of our deals.”

That’s a fair point, Dean guesses. Not that he likes it any better because of it. “Where the hell is Sammy?” he distracts and cranes his neck. But the moose is nowhere to be seen in the line.

“Maybe he needed to step out for a second?” Cas says reasonably.

“After he was almost at the front of the line?” Dean frowns.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. Your brother is an adult.”

“I know,” Dean growls, because yes, Sam’s an adult and doesn’t need him anymore. He’s aware of it. And he doesn’t like it. Because in this relationship as in every other, it’s Dean who clings. Who needs to be needed. Because he can’t have what he really wants. Which is to be wanted. But who would want Dean Winchester in their lives?

“Dean?”

He notices the burning in his eyes only when Cas’ voice is suddenly worried. Quickly, he wipes at the trail of wetness on his cheek, which he guesses is flaming red by now. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s not a crime to have feelings,” Cas says.

“But _you_ shouldn’t have to deal with them,” Dean answers. Because that’s just not fair. Not after what Dean did to Cas.

“You ever thought that maybe that was the problem, Dean? That you tried to handle everything by yourself?”

Dean shakes his head. “It wasn’t.” His voice sounds too hoarse for his liking but he presses on. “I shared so much with you already. If I’d shared more…” He breaks off. He doesn’t want to say this. Doesn’t want to make it even more real than it already is.

“Then what, Dean?” The question is quiet.

Dean dares to let his eyes find Cas’ for a moment. He is not angry. Not right this moment. He really wants to know. Well, how much deeper can Dean fall?

“Then all of me would have been yours.”

It hurts surprisingly little to say it. Feels like a relief, actually. To confess what he’d kept only in his heart ad hadn’t told anyone before.

The relief is short-lived, though.

“Did you ever stop to think that the reverse was also true? That you would have had all of me as well? Providing you ever wanted that.”

There’s so much hurt in the sentence that something in Dean shatters. He reaches forward and grasps Cas’ hand.

“Fuck, Cas, don’t say that. Of course that’s what I want – wanted,” he corrects immediately.

He takes a deep breath. He’s carried this around for a long time. So has Cas, judging by the pain in his eyes that seems to be stronger than even his anger at Dean. So maybe Dean can make that part right again at least. Cas shouldn’t have to live with the feeling of not having been enough. Not when it was the opposite of true.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. I know that I hurt you. I did it on purpose and that’s all on me. I’m an asshole and you should hate me for it. But it wasn’t cause I didn’t love you. It wasn’t cause you weren’t enough. It was cause you were everything.” He wills Cas to understand.

“You hurt me before I could hurt you,” Cas finally figures it out.

“Yes,” Dean agrees with a relieved sigh because he doesn’t think he’d have had better words.

“You’re an idiot, Dean,” Cas states matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Dean agrees again because really there isn’t any question about that. “I’m sorry, Cas. I really am. I shouldn’t have hurt you. It was selfish. You’ve got every right to hate me.”

Cas sighs. “I seem to lack the ability to hate you. And not for lack of trying.”

He attaches a weak smile to that, which Dean answers with a small smile of his own. “At the risk of sounding incredibly selfish again, that kinda makes me happy.”

Cas doesn’t answer but he looks down at their joined hands and it’s only now that Dean notices that Cas has yet to draw away. It sends a jolt through Dean when he notices that yes, that is actual skin on skin contact they’re having. He hardly dares to breathe because Cas’ fingers are warm and soft in his and Cas is looking at their hands, so he must have noticed, but maybe it hasn’t registered. As soon as it does, he’ll remember that he’s supposed to punch Dean not hold hands. And Dean would like to postpone that moment a little while longer.

Consequently, when Cas looks up, Dean flinches, sure that Cas has remembered now that he might not hate Dean, but that he’s still extremely angry.

Instead, Dean gets a smile. It’s weary and worn, like the fight has gone out of Cas and Dean’s got him defeated. Only Dean didn’t fight to win, all he wanted to do was to give Cas some closure, so it’s confusing as hell.

“There’s no one else, Dean. I told you I was happy, you jumped to conclusions.”

It takes a moment to sink in. “So there’s no boyfriend coming to meet you here?” he asks to make sure.

“I wasn’t lying about being happy. I’ve got a good life. But no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Then it catches up to Dean what Cas had actually said in that first sentence. “Wait, did you say, there’s no one _else_?” he asks dumbfounded.

For a moment, Cas looks like he’s going to shake his head and deny it, then he looks at their joined hands again and his shoulders slump. “Your hearing hasn’t suffered over the years.”

It’s such a Cas thing to say that Dean chuckles in spite of himself and the gravity of the admission. It even looks like one of the corners of Cas’ mouth is quirking up a bit as well, though that might be wishful thinking.

That thought brings Dean back down to Earth. Still, there aren’t that many options of interpreting what Cas just said. “Uhh,” Dean starts out, suddenly more insecure than he’s been all afternoon. “So does this mean that if I gave you my number, you might, you know, not punch me or throw it out? You might actually text me or call me sometime?”  

“Dean, I -,” now it’s Cas whose eyes don’t seem to want to meet Dean’s, “I don’t know. I don’t think I could – I don’t think I can do this again.” He finally draws his fingers out from under Dean’s and collects his hands in his lap instead, far out of reach. Whether it is to keep Dean from coming after him or to keep himself from reaching out, Dean doesn’t know.

But he sees it now. Sees it in the way that Cas has to fight to keep his body closed up instead of leaning closer. In the way that his eyes are drawn back to Dean when he makes every effort to look away.

“I’m probably not worth it, Cas,” Dean starts and digs in his pants for his wallet to fish out one of his business cards anyway. He pushes it towards Cas who stares at it and doesn’t take it. “I know I got issues. And you’re still out my league. But if you wanted to, you know, just talk some time, or yell at me some more or whatever, I’d – you know, be happy to hear your voice.” He cringes at his own desperation, so he leans back out of Cas’ space with a huff.

But Cas doesn’t seem to mind. Or if he does, he doesn’t show it. He watches Dean with this quiet intensity that has always made Dean’s skin tingle. Or crawl. Depending on how much he had fucked up right this second.

As it is now, all Dean wants is to get out from under the scrutiny, so he keeps rambling. “You should have given me time to work on this. You know me, I can be smooth as fuck. Just need the right kind of preparation.”

And wow that had come out dirtier than planned. By the way his face burns, he’s flushing a bright red again to make it even more obvious, too.

“You are flustered,” Cas observes.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Dean groans and barely resists the urge to hide his face behind his hands.

“You’re only ever flustered when it’s not just flirting. When you mean it.”

“Cas, please,” Dean begs him because the humiliation is bad enough as it is.

“It’s true, though.”

“Of course it is!” Dean almost shouts. “You know that you mean the world to me. You could still let me keep a few shreds of my dignity!”

It’s the shocked wide eyes that clue Dean in.

“Fuck,” he closes his eyes for a moment to gather strength. That was not what he had wanted to say. Not because it was a lie, in the opposite, because it was the fucking unbearable truth. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry, Cas. I can’t do this. It’s better if I go.”

He’s halfway up and out of his chair when Cas recovers and catches his hand. “Wait.”

Dean does, though he doesn’t sit back down, stays poised to run.

“I _didn’t_ know, Dean.”

Because Dean is a fucking asshole and a coward to boot. But Cas is still holding onto Dean’s hand, so Dean slumps back down on his chair, strength suddenly gone. “Well, it’s true,” he says sullenly.

“Did you know, Dean?” Cas asks.

“That I loved you or that you loved me?”

“Both?” Cas hazards.

“Yes,” Dean nods. “Yes, I knew.”

“And you panicked?”

“And I panicked,” Dean confirms.

Cas nods gravely, the intensity back. “I understand.”

That’s something, Dean guesses. More than he could have hoped for, really.

Cas takes up the business card that is still lying between them. He looks at it, contemplating. “Are you going to do it again?”

“What?”

“If I call you and we talk and then maybe meet for a coffee some day and then for a movie and then go to my place or yours – are you going to wake up one morning and panic and do it again?”

“I’m shitty at living without you,” Dean says and feels small. “I learned that lesson.”

“Does that mean you’d talk to me next time? Instead of picking up a random blonde?”

Dean cringes at the way Cas puts this but what he says is, “Next time?” Because Cas has said that twice now.

“There’d be conditions. And no guarantee. I can’t – Dean, I can’t be your crutch. I’m ready to give you a blank slate, but only if you do the same for yourself. No more punishing yourself. That’s the only way this will work.”

“You’d be ready to give me that?” Dean asks, not quite trusting his ears.

“Only if you do the same,” Cas reiterates. “And we wouldn’t be – back together right this second. But I’d keep your number. And text you. And if you wanted to invite me to a bacon cheeseburger, I’d probably say yes. But Dean, I wouldn’t hide anymore. I’ve become sick of hiding quite a while ago.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Me too. I’d – if we got there, I’d tell Sammy. I promise.”

“Good,” Cas nods and pockets the business card. “Expect a text from me then.”

He sounds so stern saying it, that all Dean can do is nod, his heart not quite caught up with the happenstances of the past five minutes, even though there’s warmth blossoming in his chest and a small smile spreading on his face.

“Oh fucking finally!” It’s loud and it comes from the neighboring booth.

Cas’ eyes turn wide again and Dean turns around, too, because he’s recognized the voice, and most certainly, a smirking Gabriel is sliding out of the booth and into view, the sheepishly smiling moose that Dean calls his brother close behind him.

“You two are so dense, for a moment there I was worried you’d fuck even this up,” Gabriel says. “Here, bro. Though it’s probably mostly cold now.” He slides a cup of cocoa in front of Cas while plonking down the biggest milkshake imaginable in front of his own seat.

“ _This_ is who you were meeting?” Dean asks incredulously.

“I fear it is,” Cas nods and his face is expressionless in the way that it stays whenever he isn’t sure whether he wants to rip your head off or whether he’s actually amused.

“Guilty as charged,” Gabriel grins and pats Dean on the shoulder. “Be glad that your brother’s been telling only good stories for the past year. Otherwise I’d have beaten you up instead of setting you up.” He smiles pleasantly but Dean’s got no doubt that he means it.

But that also means… “Sam?” Dean turns around to his brother, doubly puzzled now.

In opposition to Gabe, Sam has the decency to look guilty. “I’m sorry, Dean. But it was unbearable, the two of you running around like lost puppies. And it wasn’t getting any better.”

“I wasn’t…” But Dean stops because he’s got pretty much no ground to stand on here. And he’s tried to keep quiet about this towards Sam, but Sam unerringly sniffs out Dean’s screwed up emotions in his weekly calls.

“Drastic measures had to be taken,” Gabe says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“So you knew about Cas and me?” Dean asks Sam. “The whole time, you knew?”

“Yeah, Dean, I knew. Sorry I never said anything. If I’d known that that was part of the problem… But you never said anything and I know how averse you are to talking feelings. And then you guys broke up, and,” Sam shrugs. “Sorry, Cas, I should probably have mentioned this to you, too. But I like you, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend after you two, so, yeah. Sorry.”

Gabriel has to stretch over the whole table to pat Sam’s shoulder but he does it anyway. “It’s all good, Sammy. It wasn’t immediately obvious they were quite as big morons as they obviously are. We’re going to keep an eye on them from now on, make sure they do better this time.”

“I’m all for it,” Sam nods, “you were pretty pathetic this last year. Both of you.”

Dean flushes again, and when he dares to look up towards Cas, Cas’ face is dark red as well.

It’s enough to give Dean some extra courage. “Yeah, can’t say he’s wrong. I missed you pretty bad.”

Cas smiles, and though it’s a small thing, it’s beautiful. “I missed you, too, Dean,” he whispers.

“Hear, hear,” Gabriel cackles. “High-five, Sam!”

Dean shakes his head when his brother doesn’t hesitate to give Gabe his high five, but seeing how the afternoon turned out, he doesn’t have it in him to be actually annoyed. “So, umm, what do you say, want to go grab that cheeseburger right now? Cause I’m not sure I can stand the smug smiles any longer.”

“Yes,” Cas says, “yes, Dean. I think I’d love that.”

 

 


End file.
